


Color Me Blue

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toys make the boys, but crayons?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Color Me Blue

“What are you doing?”

“This is a trick question, yes?”  It was perfectly obvious what he was doing.

“I mean, I know what you’re doing, but why are you doing it?”  Napoleon bent over the desk.

“It helps me to focus at times when other things fail.  It helps me to clear my mind of assumptions and conventions.”   A pause.  “It helps me to relax and I like the smell.”

“The smell?”

“Yes.”  He sighed and admired his handiwork for a moment.  “It’s freeing and it’s not like I got a chance to do much of this when I was a child.”

“I refuse to believe you were ever a child, partner.”

“A view shared by many others, I fear.”  He returned to his task.  “Besides, I like the way they feel in my hands, the shape, the choices, as well as the simplicity and the cleanliness of the lines.  There’s something very straightforward and yet inanely creative about it.  You should try it.” 

Napoleon sat close enough that their knees were touching.  Illya smiled at the contact, carefully tore a sheet of paper from the book and passed it over to him.  After a moment, Napoleon reached out and tilted up Illya’s chin to study his face.

“I’m thinking cornflower blue with maybe just a hint of periwinkle.”

“What?”

“Your eyes.”

Illya dropped his gaze and smiled.  “Now you’re just being puerile, Napoleon.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not telling you what to do.”

“Horses don’t have blue eyes.”

Napoleon looked down at the plain line drawing of a pony capering through a field.  “Well, mine does!  Or rather he will…”

Sighing and shaking his head, Illya returned to his coloring book.

 


End file.
